


We Won't Tell

by helens78



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan)
Genre: Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-13
Updated: 2007-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-05 20:10:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helens78/pseuds/helens78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce's escapades leave two of his friends worried about them.  It's a good thing they have each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Won't Tell

Company formal dinners aren't a thing of the past where Wayne Enterprises is concerned. What _does_ seem to be a thing of the past is the CEO's attendance at them; not five minutes into the dinner, Bruce excuses himself and disappears.

Alfred leans over Lucius's shoulder as he refills Lucius's wine glass. "I'm afraid our young Master Bruce won't be back for some time," he murmurs. "I don't suppose you could fill in the slight gap left by his absence?"

So Lucius does, and it's not the first time. By the time everyone's started leaving, Alfred doubts anyone remembers it was supposed to be Bruce Wayne's dinner and not Lucius Fox's. Bruce is developing a reputation for being a figurehead, and everyone assumes that Lucius is the power behind the throne. Alfred's learned that Lucius finds that half-flattering, half-frustrating.

"He's got a brilliant mind," Lucius says, helping Alfred with the dishes despite Alfred's mild protestations. "He's brighter than his father--you of all people must have figured that out by now."

"Oh, certainly." Alfred ignores Lucius's outstretched hand and carefully dries the crystal himself, setting it back into its cabinet as Lucius rolls his eyes. Lucius probably has a point--it's not as if he broke any glasses at dinner--but habit is habit, and there are some things Alfred doesn't trust to anyone outside himself. "But it's as they say..." He dries his hands off and puts the dishcloth on the counter, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. "A man must make his own mistakes, not simply re-tread those of his father."

"Now stop," Lucius says, lowering his voice and reaching out to put his hands on Alfred's shoulders. Alfred lets his eyes close, which is his one concession to how good that feels. "You can't tell me you wouldn't feel better if he were safe in the boardroom instead of base-jumping off of buildings..."

"His father lived that sort of safe life," Alfred murmurs, unfolding his arms as Lucius starts kneading--gently, always gently. "And we both know how that ended."

They don't talk about Bruce any more after that, but it doesn't change the way Bruce is in both their thoughts all night. Taking comfort from each other leaves them both wishing Bruce had someone to seek comfort in, somehow, somewhere, in one guise or the other. Alfred's never sure whether these nights leave him feeling less lonely or more--and he's never asked Lucius which it is for him, either.

When the bell marking a late-night arrival in the sublevels sounds, Lucius climbs out of bed and dresses, leaving Alfred to find out how the night's travails have been.

"I wish you could tell him to be safe. From me," Lucius says, hand on Alfred's, squeezing.

"He likes to pretend you don't know."

"He's not that much of a fool." Lucius sighs. "But I'll pretend it's our secret. For now."

"For now," Alfred says, and he squeezes Lucius's hand in return.

_-end-_


End file.
